unique is inadequate to describe the vagabonds, homeless, musicians, clowns, tourist, workers, locals and of course me . I was fortunate to have a live band about 8 feet to me right, a guitar player with a guitar that was old as I was, not a classic Gibson, just an old cheap guitar, he played it well in his coveralls, long blond scraggly beard , alto voice, flip flop sandals, generally dirty, he was accompanied by a teenager with hair in a crew cut , white t shirt, , short jeans and of course flip flip flops playing a nice looking banjo, the third member played the guitar as well with a style I describe between George Goebel and Roy Rogers, he too had the fashionable coveralls, construction shoes, and white t shirt... I enjoyed them as a back drop to watching the people pass by... As I said they were a live band, I 've yet to hear a dead one play very well. But then I haven't had that opportunity yet, in spite of Satan asking me daily for my hand, offering me a glass of kool aid, wanting me to take a walk . He wants to take me to the big room where you sit on a folding metal chair with no seat pad next to the small room filled with flames. So I sit drinking my gatorade, (orange)
watching, listening studying.. A young man rides down the center of Royal on a bike, his wife beater shirt bottom flowing behind, tattoos covering both arms , legs, and neck, must mean something, his bike lock on the cross bar weighs about 50 pounds, his bike is worth about 20 bucks, hair was a semi Mohawk, shredded short jeans , black high top tennis, has to be an executive with one of the oil companies...My attention is drawn to a clop,clop,clop, on the sidewalk , a dark complected man black hair slicked back , big white teeth, brown leather shoes, silk socks, a blue velour jacket , dark shirt and yellow tie, I had to rub my eyes , sure enough it was a flashback to 63, he was a barker at the Sho Bar on Bourbon,,,,don't know how he got mixed up in this blog, must be the Valium. 2 young men approach me and it was very, very, important to one of them to shake my hand, apparently he respected anyone who can balance themselves on a bicycle..Out of courtesy I acted like I gave a shit and appreciated his dumb ass. My favorite pal approached me next, seems I was a sitting target, here;s what he said, " my wife and I are in town, shes pregnant, could you spot me a couple of dollars to get her a hamburger" , this is what I heard , " as you can see I'm filty, slept on the street, need a beer to shake the DT;s will you give me 2 dollars so I can buy a 32 oz beer". my reply is always the same. "I'm on a bike asshole , get away from me quick",...Ah!, a lady bike rider in the street, long dark hair, pretty face, plenty plenty red lipstick, a black dress she bought at the goodwill store, the bike is a old fat tire beach bike, with a basket so she looks like Mary Poppins on acid, the giveaway is on her left calf a tattoo of a panther climbing her leg,,it's a foot long, a WWII sailor would have turned his back on the tattoo and her...Approaching are 2 young clean cut boys, now here's a change ,the older one has his hair combed and neat, cotton slacks with cuff,s a cotton jacket, dress shirt, penny loafer shoes, the younger one, is a little goofy looking,, a baseball cap kinda crooked , a baseball jacket, some dirty jeans, hey wait a minute , these guys are in black and white, its Wally and the Beaver, damm Valium....back to the street, another biker babe, this one is different, beach bike, clean and neat, Blond hair different shades, pretty face, capri white slacks, linen blouse, black sandals with rhinestones, right ankle carries a blue sapphire stone anklet, pink scarf flowing off her neck, the bike basket full of expensive wine, a loaf of french bread strapped to her waist, her nails all turquoise, smiling and showing her white teeth,,, its was all too perfect , then I saw it , a tattoo on the top of her foot that said "worship me"... A man sat on the ground about 3 feet from me , he had a can of beer in it's little brown bag, a piece of brown cardboard, and a felt pen, he proceeded to write in the cardboard, in irregular print the following " too ugly to prostitute , too proud to steal" he was right, he put down a little box for donations. still sitting down against the fence and enjoying his beer,, He was well tanned, semi filty, but still a panhandler alcoholic ,,,, Oh Oh , here comes grandma and grandpa from Nebraska, a combined weight of 575 pounds, they both wore khaki slacks dragging the ground, light blue shirts and Walmart tennis shoes, they were lost, my directions were simple , walk around here till your tired the go back to your room and rest... they agreed ... Here's a good one, young man, semi filty, seemed serious, ask me the best place to watch the Saints game, I told him the Super dome probably is the best place to watch the Saints game, he explained "no, I mean free". I directed him to Bourbon, told him to stand in the street and look into any bar the game will be on , gee thanks mister, this moron had to have something else on his mind , nobody can be that stupid, or can they..... Here comes a famous quarter carriage, this one looked different, I noted that sitting in the back was John Wayne, John Houston, .2 women,a liqueur salesman ,a banker, a sheriff , with the driver took the front seat, wait a minute that's " Stagecoach" the movie,,, I've stopped too long, getting up was hard, but once back in the saddle headed east , then to the Lake and back home , 50 miles today..... felt good. No sense living in reality too long , it'll wear you down...
gary gauthier....
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